A/N-Thank you so much to all of the readers and this last chapter's reviewers: redsox15, Tori, Bakerstreet Blues, JLCH, LoveMyHouse, LapizSilkwood, partypantscuddy, TheHouseWitch, MsStevieCooper, OldSFfan, jaybe61, IHeartHouseCuddy, Josam, JJ, BJAllen815, Suzieqlondon, dmarchl21, Abby, Alex, HuddyGirl, CaptainK8, ClareBear14, 6cbrilhante and justlobe
**-Apartment in Philadelphia-almost 2 weeks before Jack was born-**
Cuddy walked through the apartment stretching her legs, one hand pressed supportively on her lower back as she tried to balance her large belly. Ava was sleeping. Cuddy glanced at the clock, it was just after two am, dark, the sounds of the city as faded as they ever were. House was out getting milkshakes. She never woke him to go get her food or to meet strange culinary cravings, but she did wake him up for sex. Pregnancy certainly didn't lower her appetite for lovemaking. She woke him a little earlier, enticing him and easily convincing him that sex just after midnight was a fantastic idea. Of course, she could always convince him that almost any time was perfect for sex.
When they lay against each other afterwards, she said, absently, "I'd love one of those…orange pineapple milkshakes. Why don't they deliver?"
He chuckled, "OK…I'll go."
"No," she insisted, "I don't want you to go. I just…suddenly thought that sounded really delicious."
"Because it does," he said, but when he tried to get up she pulled him back to her.
"I'm not sending you out this late."
"It's a craving. Isn't this part of my duties as an expectant father? You almost never send me on midnight runs to meet your cravings…I feel remiss in my obligations."
"You meet my other cravings just fine," she laughed as she palmed his testicles, "And it isn't a craving, it's an observation."
"I get so tired of being treated like an orgasm vending machine," he whined.
"Aw…poor baby."
House closed his eyes, holding her closely against him. After five minutes of attempting sleep, his eyes popped open, "Well…your observation…has turned into my craving. I'm running over to the diner."
"Are you serious?" she asked, laughing.
"Don't try to demean the power of hormones and sympathetic pregnancy, Cuddy," he said, feigning a weepy pregnancy moment.
"Smartass. You are so lucky I just got laid and I'm in a good mood," she jabbed.
He smirked at her. "You really want that orange pineapple crap?"
She nodded, "If you're going, that's the kind I want."
He got up out of bed and started getting dressed, "Are you trying to sneak healthy into something that's inherently unhealthy…because face it, you can put spinach in a milkshake and it's still bad for you…and then it tastes like shit. Why ruin a good milkshake?"
"Mmm…spinach," she teased as she saw a look of sheer horror cover his face. "You can taste it…it's really good. I'm not craving that flavor because I think it's healthier, I'm craving it because it tastes so good."
"Ah-ha," he declared, pointing victoriously at her, "I told you it was a craving."
A few minutes later, he was heading out the door, and she was walking and stretching, as her back was aching and her baby had a knee or an elbow wedged under the edge of her ribs. Her peaceful walk came to an abrupt and disturbing end when Ava screamed from her room.
Years would pass, truly a decade would pass, and that sound never became less heart-wrenching for Cuddy. Often roused from sleep by Ava's screams, her subconscious, her dreams, would blend the twin pains of both of her daughters before alertness reminded her of reality. Reality came with both relief and disappointment as she was reminded that one daughter was safe in bed, though emotionally traumatized, and the other was gone from her forever.
Cuddy hurried back to Ava's room, sat on the edge of the small bed, and pulled the wailing girl onto her lap. She carried Ava to the rocker, but Cuddy's belly made the usual routine difficult. The girl was trying to calm down, but couldn't seem to get comfortable, and they were both getting frustrated. Cuddy stood, shifting the girl's weight onto her hip and walking out toward the living room. Ava was still sniffling, unable to easily break through her fear and sadness. Grabbing a light blanket, Cuddy threw it over the girl's shoulders, and walked to the balcony door. Cuddy carried Ava outside and sat in the chair, putting the child on the table in front of her so she could sit comfortably. Once settled, belly under the table where the girl sat, Cuddy wrapped her arms around Ava and kept her close without anything in their way.
Cuddy held her, rubbed her back soothingly, and Ava leaned her head on her mom's shoulder as the sobbing slowed. Cuddy pointed up to the sky. The night was clear, and the stars were easily visible, even with the dimming effect of the brightness of the city. "That's Orion," Cuddy said, pointing out Sirius, and telling the little girl the story of the hunter and his loyal dog.
Ava listened intently, cuddling closer and enjoying the story almost as much as the soothing sound of her mother's voice. As she spoke, Cuddy could almost hear her own father, telling her the stories as a child while he pointed to the sky. Her dad had been gone so long, sometimes it felt like he existed in a completely different world from the one she found herself living. Her father loved mythology and the stars, and the stories about the constellations were a pleasant meeting of two things he enjoyed.
Cuddy remembered the Fourth of July, the year that she had once considered the worst year of her life. The year she and House imploded in painful and life changing ways, and she and Rachel ran to Baltimore to try to start a new life. That Fourth of July, Cuddy and Rachel watched fireworks over Inner Harbor, just the two of them, the reflections off of the windows of surrounding buildings and off of the water, accompanied by the crisp boom of each explosion, seemed to draw them into living in the moment. After the finale finished, and the last puffs of smoke hovered in the air, there was the chaos of crowd dissipation. Cuddy grabbed her daughter's hand, and they stood pressed against a nearby building to wait until the near stampede had slowed. That night, to pass time, Cuddy told Rachel the same stories she'd tell Ava one day.
Years later, in Philadelphia, Ava fell asleep listening to stories about the stars, half sitting on the table, half leaning on her mom, with her tiny arms wrapped around Cuddy's neck. When House returned with large styrofoam cups filled with milkshakes, he noticed the balcony door opened, and saw everything he valued in the world occupying little more than two square feet of space, Ava resting peacefully in Cuddy's arms.
House, Cuddy and Jack found Blythe, Ava and Kate sitting on the roof of the Center with the newly assembled telescope. It was larger than Cuddy had imagined it would be, and Ava looked every bit as happy with her telescope as Jack looked with his art supplies. She ran to her brother, grabbed his hand, and yanked him toward the telescope. She lowered the telescope so he could see, and realigned it. She told her brother, "Tonight, we should be able to see Jupiter and some moons. And your favorite…the Crab Nebula."
As the sun set, the family watched as stars appeared, and Ava shared the extensive knowledge she'd gained over the years. Jack was excited, but soon began to fade as the night grew later. Kate and Blythe offered to take the boy home for bed. Cuddy went downstairs to give the next round of treatment to Mike while House stayed with Ava on the roof.
"When are we leaving for our field trip?" Ava asked while she peered through her telescope.
"Three days," House answered from his spot seated on the cold concrete.
"Will Uncle Wilson be there?"
"His boyish smiling face will meet us at the airport."
"Will Grandma be there? And Aunt Julia?"
"At some point," House said, trying not to sound disappointed. "They'll want to see you guys."
"Why do you and Aunt Julia not like each other?"
House sighed, "When things happened with me and your mom…"
He drifted into thought. Ava knew about her parents' past. There were not lies between them. When House first told Ava what happened, he was terrified, but the girl always seemed so accepting of her parents, and the more honest they were about their flaws, the more accepting she seemed to become. Both of her parents shared their mistakes and discussed their regrets years earlier.
"When you relapsed and crashed into Mom's house?" Ava asked bluntly, still searching for something through the lens of her new gift.
"Even before that," House said, scratching the back of his head. "She thought that I wasn't a good fit for her sister. Now, Julia and I accept that the other one is there to stay, and we try not to let our past mutual dislike interfere too much in the present."
"But you like each other better than you used to?"
"We try because we both love your mom."
"But Grandma loves you."
"I don't know if I'd say that."
"Oh please," Ava laughed, "Everyone knows it."
House smirked just a bit. It was true, Arlene adored him, and still brought her best banter and criticism whenever she met with House. Her insistence on treating him with derision only served to make it more clear how much she liked him.
"You never got angry with me or acted differently when you heard about the things I did. Why not?" It was a question he had often pondered, but had never asked.
"You want me to be angry at you for it?"
"No. I don't want you be angry at me for it…but I would understand if you were."
"You're…my Dad. I know you pretty well. You won't hurt anybody."
"I mean…I did though."
"You and Mom worry so much about this. You worry about the weirdest things. All of the time, and it's dumb."
"Why's that?"
"Because I know how you are. You and Mom both pretend to be so tough, but you get your feelings hurt just like everybody else. And you guys spent lots of time hurting each other's feelings, and I think you still try to make it up to each other. You have talked to me, and Mom has talked to me, and you both always try to take most of the blame. I guess that's how I know you guys really care about each other. You don't blame each other for what happened, you blame yourselves."
House looked at her, appreciating the different viewpoint.
"See, Dad," Ava said, "You and Mom…sorta had breakdowns, just like I do, but you didn't have someone to show you how to get rid of your anger or sadness or whatever was bothering you. Right?"
House nodded. "I guess."
"I'd be a mess if I didn't have someone help me figure out how to do that. And to take care of me when I'm not thinking right. With you…I think that drugs made it easier to do things you wouldn't have done normally. I think that if you aren't on drugs, you wouldn't do something like that."
"I wouldn't."
"And you know that, so you don't do drugs. If you went out and started to do a lot of drugs again, then I'd be mad, because you know that sometimes you go too far when you are on drugs. And then I'd think...that you didn't really care much, because you'd risk hurting us."
House nodded again and they sat in silence, staring up at the sky for a few minutes.
"I know I'm a difficult kid sometimes," she sighed.
"You aren't," he answered without hesitation.
"Yes, I am. I get really angry. Way angrier than other kids. I have those dreams and I get you guys up at night. You're all patient. I get mad, and you let me be mad when I need to. I wake you up screaming, and you don't get frustrated."
"It's not your fault, you can't control night terrors."
"Kela, in my class…she has asthma," Ava said, "She gets attacks at night sometimes. Her Dad gets mad if he has to get up. Is it medically possible for the asthma to be her fault?"
House smirked, "No, I don't think a kid gave themselves asthma. I mean…I guess she could seek out triggers…"
Ava looked at him sternly. "Fine," he said, "the fact that an eight year-old has asthma is definitely not her fault."
"Thank you," Ava answered victoriously. "So it's not her fault either, but her parents get really mad. If you were able to hurt me, it would be when I wake you in the middle of the night when you are tired and frustrated. Or when I broke the TV that one day when I was freaking out. But you don't. You were almost scary calm. And then you punished me after I settled down. But you never really seem angry, even when I wake you in the middle of the night."
"That's because I'm not angry."
"I sorta remember…how they put me in different homes when I was little. Before I went back to you guys. They all didn't want me. "
"They were idiots. But, I guess it's good for us that they were idiots because we got to keep you. I knew there was a reason I liked idiots."
"You were really hurt when Mom left you, huh?"
House looked down toward his hands, "Yea…I mean…yea it hurt. Tons. More than I think I ever hurt in my life."
"More than your leg?"
"Way more that my leg."
"Jason's leaving my school," Ava finally said sadly.
"Why?" House asked startled.
Jason was Ava's only real friend in school. House always guessed the boy was abused earlier in life.
"His parents are moving to Paris. Some job as a professor."
House nodded.
"There's something I have to tell you, Dad…I think this might make you mad at me."
House looked ahead, feeling uncomfortable. These were always the moments when he was most concerned with screwing things up. He wanted Ava to trust him, and yet, he had to sometimes be a strong parental figure, give advice or correction.
"Tell me," House said calmly.
"Jason tried to hold my hand in the library…before he knew he was moving," she said, pushing her hair back in an attempt to look mature.
"Did ya punch him?" House said calmly and lightly.
"No!" Ava answered, "I held his hand for a minute. Are you mad?"
House's shoulders chuckled, "No, I'm not mad. I think…maybe you are a little young for dating."
Ava bumped his arm, "We aren't dating. After school, I told him that I didn't think I was ready for a boyfriend."
"I agree, you are too young, and…I'm really glad you are mature enough to know that."
"The thing is though, I'm still really sad he's leaving."
House nodded, hearing the sadness in her voice.
She continued, her tone somber, "He told his mom that he loved me."
"Wow," House answered.
"Yea, and his mom said that eight year-olds don't know what love is."
"There are different kinds of love. People…say stuff like that to dismiss how you feel." His irritation grew as he thought about it, and House scoffed loudly, "That's such crap. Eight year-olds know what love is. Actually, kids your age probably know more about what love is than a lot of adults."
"Right," Ava said dismissively.
"I'm serious. You guys…care about each other without worrying about relationship status or appearances. You guys aren't all…tied up in hormones and sex."
Ava's face cringed in disgust at the mention of sex and House couldn't deny the sense of relief he felt that she was disturbed by the mere use of the word.
"Sorry, kid, it's true," he shrugged. "Adults, are sometimes dumb when it comes to sex."
"Could you please stop saying that word?"
"Dumb?" he teased.
"Sex," she answered with frustration.
"God, Ava, that's so gross, do you have to say that word, like…all of the time," he teased.
She covered her head with her arms in embarrassment and he jabbed her arm with his elbow, "You'll be alright…I won't say it anymore…today."
She lifted her head and he said seriously, "All I meant was, you guys care about each other because…you like each other. Because you like who the other person is. You are real friends. A lot of adults could learn from that."
"You couldn't say that the first time?"
"And miss such a fantastic opportunity to embarrass you?"
She looked at him, both irritated and pleading, "Most people think we don't get it. They think we're just stupid kids and we're too young to understand."
"Don't let people tell you that what you feel isn't what you feel," House said, his irritation at other people's dismissal showing through.
"He is my friend. And I am sad he's leaving."
"Eight or ninety-eight…heartache is heartache, and it sucks…it really hurts," House answered seriously.
"Thanks"
"Why didn't you tell me he was getting all handsy," House joked.
"This is exactly why…he wasn't getting handsy, he was…"
"I'm joking, relax," House said. After a few minutes of silence he added, with some concern, "But, really. Why didn't you tell me? About the whole hand holding thing, or him leaving…or how you felt?"
"Normal girls don't tell their dads stuff like that," she answered as if the answer was completely obvious.
"But you told me tonight…"
"I guess…we aren't normal, and I had to remember that."
"Did you talk to Kate or Mel or your mom about this?"
"No. Why…are you jealous?"
"No, not at all. I just…I want you to tell me stuff…because I am awesome, and I want to know, and I want you to trust me. But…"
"I trust you," she interrupted.
He held up a finger, "But…if there's something you can't tell me, you should probably try talking to one of them. You know…so you don't have to feel alone. If something really big is going on…I never want you to feel you're alone."
Ava looked away in a way that House found odd. "What?" he asked.
"I did talk to someone."
"Well…I mean someone who isn't the handsy guy. Someone you can really trust to look out for you."
"I did."
"Who?"
"Jack"
"Jack? You trusted your little brother?"
"Oh yea. Well, he knew something was wrong."
"What did he say?" House asked.
"He said it sucks that Jason's leaving. And when I told him about people saying that we don't know what love is, he said the same thing you did: 'that's crap.'"
"Smart kid. How'd you know he wouldn't tell?"
"He just wouldn't"
"He's your little brother…a demographic that is notorious for selling out the older sister."
"He wouldn't, trust me."
"You have something on him, don't you?"
Ava smirked and looked away. "Jack and I are really close."
"A truth. But a truth being used to divert me from the answer I want."
"But still a truth," she answered.
As the conversation broke down, he helped Ava push the telescope into a storage shed on the roof nearby to protect it from the weather.
"While we're discussing important things, oh beloved daughter, apple of my eye, one of the lights of my life," House declared with dramatic emphasis, "What's my tell?"
"No way, Dad. Just…no way."
"Come on," he said, dropping the artificial sweetness from his voice.
"It's the one card Jack and I have. We agreed never to play that card unless we both think we should."
"Which one of you figured it out?"
"You're trying to trick me by starting with easy questions and getting me to drop my guard."
"No I'm not," House scoffed, but it was clear the girl was right.
"I'm not saying anything, Dad. Sorry."
"Do you two have…meetings and stuff…do you take minutes…make quarterly projections…pass motions?"
"Yup," Ava giggled as they went downstairs to meet up with Cuddy. "We're very organized."
They saw Cuddy finishing up with Mike, turning out the lights in the weary man's room. When Cuddy emerged she said, "Frank's looking for you."
"Tomorrow," House said casually, and the three of them began their journey home.